A Real Book Lover

I have a thing for books. I don’t only devour them with my eyes; I don’t only satiate my soul with their words, images, and ideas. No, I also adore them as physical objects.

If ideas are an aphrodisiac (and they, like intelligence itself, certainly is to me!), then I must also enjoy the bodies which house them.

I love scent of books, new and old, burying my nose between the sheaf of bound papers and inhaling as if it were a drug to huff.

I lust after the physical touch of them… Caressing my fingers across embossed covers… Running my fingertips over the free ends of the pages, enjoying the feeling of flipping them — soothed by the sound, intoxicated by the scent released.

Ah, yes, books are sensual treats…

So it should come as no surprise that I desire Paper Passion Perfume. Buy me a bottle, let me think of you…


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